


Life at the lab

by armethaumaturgy



Series: Fate rolled the dice and the outcome was us [1]
Category: Elsword (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Mild Gore, Referenced past abuse, Self-cest, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-04-24 03:18:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 13,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4903510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armethaumaturgy/pseuds/armethaumaturgy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Esper only wanted to find mother and be happy again. But dreams seldom come true, and Esper isn't ready to pay the price for his attempts.<br/>One of the failed attempts leads to so much more than he could've imagined, though.<br/>[Series of one-shots]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reinitiate

**Author's Note:**

> i fucking fell into the pits of hell. also there's not enough Addcest tbH
> 
>  **Update (20/10/15)** : I fixed the order of the stories as they go chronologically, I'll probably be doing this a lot while adding new ones!  
>  **Update (17/6/16)** : I fixed the order of the stories as they go again+added a new one shot!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Look at the mess you made," Glave says finally, just loud enough for him to hear over the irritating background noise.

Glave's expression is hidden behind his mask, but that doesn't mean he isn't sneering down at him. They all are, they always do, _everyone_ does…

He snarls, preparing his hand for a defensively offensive maneuver if Glave tries something. Dynamos float by his fingers, ready to execute his each and every command. The space tears with the energy running between them.

He is ready, but Glave simply stands in his spot by an apple tree, regarding him with his single visible eye. He never even stops playing with his dice.

"Look at the mess you made," Glave says finally, just loud enough for him to hear over the irritating background noise. Frowning, _sneering_ , just like everyone else. He wants to wind Glave's neck. Just like everyone else's.

A small chuckle slips him at the thought of the Time and space master beneath him, a bloodied and beaten husk. It sounds empty, broken, _wrong_.

Everything about him is wrong. Or maybe it's everyone else. Yes, they're all wrong, they're all mistakes he has to fix, has to get rid of.

"You destroyed so many dimensions," Glave keeps talking, seeming to ignore his unfading chuckles. "Even this one is already falling apart…" Glave shakes his head and lets out a sigh. "You can't keep going at this rate."

"Shut up!" he finally cries out, having had just enough of Glave's condescension. "You can't tell me what to do! I'll do what I want! I'll decide how things will be!"

Glave shifts his weight, throwing the dice up a little higher, but still catching them without any effort. "That's true, I can't tell you what to do," he agrees, "But I can tell you how you can fix this. All of this. That's what you want, isn't it? To fix everything."

His throat squeezes on its own and it feels like he's just been punched in the gut. Yes! He needs to fix this! He needs to- needs to go back, fix things so they're _right_ again! But no matter what he does, everything is always wrong, _wrong, **wrong**_.

Can Glave really help him?

Glave throws a small book at him. It is caught by a Dynamo and dropped gingerly into his hands. Flipping through the pages, he is surprised and confused to find them absolutely blank.

"This is your chance to fix everything," Glave says. "Write all you know into that book and I will take it to you in the past."

He stares down at the blank paper and gently takes the pen held out by another Dynamo.

"Will this really, really help?" he asks, fingers trembling despite himself. He can't even manage a loud tone anymore.

"Why don't we find out, Esper?"


	2. Again and again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He has to fix this, this is wrong, this isn't his timeline, this isn't what he had wanted, everything is wrong!
> 
> He opens another rift and crosses through the void. The pink energy swirls and twirls around him, a constant movement of the reality as it flows. Everything looks so interesting, and maybe he'd even stop and inspect the energy if he didn't want to fix his mistakes.

Add frantically looks at the code, trying his damnest hard to find a single useful piece of information in the outdated junk. He couldn't believe it! He just couldn't!

It took so long, _so fucking long_ to get Eve to finally, finally, let him take a look at them, and now it turns out that they're way worse than his? No, that's impossible! She's the Nasod queen, after all!

He dismantles each piece of the code, and it takes him hours and hours, he doesn't sleep, can't sleep when there's something like this in front of him, something he had chased after for so long. But they're all simple algorithms, the likes of which he stopped using years ago. He far exceeded the capacity of Eve's coding. The commands are simple too, and it looks like Eve's droids can't multitask like his Dynamos at all.

How is that possible?! How is it possible that he was better than the ancient race?! He absently brushes his fingers over the eye patch covering his left eye. He might've been better, but he still wasn't good _enough_.

A frustrated sound, something between a growl and a whine, something raw and angry, escapes his lips and he slams his fist onto the surface of his table. He can't fucking believe it!

He swings his arm, effectively knocking everything on the table off. Stacks of papers, tools, small screws and electromagnetic components fall to the floor in an impressive shower. He doesn't even care that there are countless notes in there, and that everything ends up in a pile that's close to unorganizable.

Eve's codes were absolutely useless to him. Absolutely, absolutely useless. All that work, all that effort, all for naught.

He has to find a way to go back, though, he has to. He has to fix it, he can fix it, he can, he just needs a little help. He needs help, even if the thought doesn't sit right in his stomach. Who could…?

Glave.

Glave can help him, Glave can travel time and space already. Yeah, Glave can help.

* * *

He should've known that Glave wouldn't help him just like that, of course he wouldn't. He has no idea what the Henir's ruler wants to do with the things he required from Add, but he knew better than to ask. He also doesn't know why Glave didn't just go get them himself; with the full control over time and space, it should've been a piece of cake for him, right?

Add suspects it's just to inconvenience him, because it does take a nice few hours to gather all of it.

He takes all the stuff back to Glave as soon as he can, and Glave rewards him with a small book. Add takes it, warily and with doubt, but Glave assures him it's exactly what he'd wanted.

"And don't forget to visit me, I get lonely," Glave calls after him when he goes on his way back to the lab. Add doesn't understand him.

He doesn't like admitting things like that, but when it comes to Glave, he doesn't really mind (that much). Glave had probably seen him admitting many more humiliating things in other timelines.

The idea of other 'him' in other timelines is simultaneously intriguing and unnerving. There's so many possibilities and it's worth investigating, but Add doesn't care about other timelines. He just wants to fix the past and live happily with his mom again. There's really nothing else he wants right then, seeing as Eve's codes were utterly useless.

It's only when he's back at the lab, seated in his chair, that he actually goes to inspect the book closely.

The book is unlabeled and looks like it already has a fair share of its life behind itself. Add flips through the yellowed pages, so similar to the pages of books he'd read back in the Nasod library. No time to reminiscent, though.

The paper is filled with messy text, running all over the place and sometimes so unintelligible that he has to stop for a few minutes just to figure out a single word. But once he gets used to the chicken-scrawl of a handwriting, he has almost no problem with linear reading.

What he reads is almost unbelievable. There are formulas and algorithms like he'd never seen before, all with notes and explanations (at least in most cases) that Add eagerly reads.

He stays up all night digesting the newfound information, and there's so much of it, so much amazing knowledge about time traveling and about the fabric of reality. He mentally thanks Glave, over and over, because this is exactly what he'd needed to complete his research, to perfect his rifts. He wonders where Glave got it.

He hasn't slept in four days, but four days isn't his record by far, so it's fine. His eyelids are refusing to open when he winks, but it's fine. The small screwdriver falls from his shaky, slightly numb fingers more than thrice, but it's fine. He writes the same, basic line of code wrong, five times, but it's fine. He's spewing curses left and right, but that's also fine.

It's fine, because he finishes an alteration to the Dynamos in less than thirteen hours (and that is a record). They float around his face while he wires them to El shards to give them more power capacity. His eyes are trained to the book (the words are running up and down as they please, but that's fine, too) and he reads about the commands his new code enables.

His cut-up hands leave small, bloody smudges on the weapon, but it doesn't matter. He screws the last Dynamo shut and chucks the screwdriver away needlessly.

"Dynamo, activate the time command," he says, voice hoarse from disuse. He coughs to clear his windpipe while the Dynamo executes the command. It doesn't look like anything much happened, but Add looks into the book again.

"Dynamo, open a rift." The Dynamos form groups of three and almost like claws dig into the air, tearing open the fabric of reality. A purple-pink hole, which Add inspects eagerly, opens up, swirling with energy. Add briefly wonders what colors the pink represents, what colors he can't see, what colors the time is made of.

He doesn't dwell on it and instead jumps into the hole, with no regrets and without looking back.

* * *

There's no fire, nothing is in ruins yet, and Add doesn't believe his eyes for a moment. He almost, almost doesn't recognize his home village without the destruction that befell it.

He grins on his own, chuckles leaving his lips as he looks all around at the familiar houses. He runs down the dirt path all the way to the back of the village, finally stopping in front of his mother's house.

He feels moistness on his cheek and he wipes it away, looks down to see the dark tears that his left eye produced now. He wipes more furiously and runs down to the front door.

"Mom!" he cries, "Mom!"

Banging on the door a bit too loudly (he's so excited, he can't help himself), he waits for it to open. The happy grin on his face falls instantly when it does, a young boy standing in the doorway, pink eyes gazing up at him from beneath white bangs.

"Who are you?" the boy demands - it's him, it's him, it's _him_.

Add's chest constricts and he almost can't force his voice out. "Dynamo, is this… Is this my past?" It shakes and he hates it.

" _Calculating discrepancy rate of the past using inputted data. Rate: 42,63%. Due to this high discrepancy rate it's hard to conclude that this is the same world,_ " the Dynamo says, the artificial voice he installed so cold and detached that it feels like another punch to the gut.

No, that's not possible! The calculations were correct! He doesn't make errors, he _doesn't_!

He has to fix this, this is wrong, this isn't his timeline, this isn't what he had wanted, everything is _wrong_!

He opens another rift and crosses through the void. The pink energy swirls and twirls around him, a constant movement of the reality as it flows. Everything looks so interesting, and maybe he'd even stop and inspect the energy if he didn't want to fix his mistakes.

His lab is still illuminated by the lamps he forgot to turn off. There is the mess of things he made when he knocked them off the table in frustration. There's the screwdriver he threw away, laying in front of his feet. There's the book, laying open on the table. The screens show a screen saver, some random dots popping in and out of existence.

He can barely stay on his feet, and he feels like crying. He's sure that he actually already is, because his sight is blurred. He collapses into the chair and promptly falls asleep, the exhaustion finally taking its toll on him.

* * *

The calculations are perfect. They are, _they are_! He checked them more than a handful of times, they're **_perfect_**!

So he doesn't know why, why, _why, why_ he keeps ending up in the same timeline, face to face with himself. Himself whose life had been a feathered pillow. It makes his blood boil, to even see his expressions now, always fearful, always cautious.

It's wrong, wrong, wrong, _wrong_! He can't believe it! Where was the error? He has to find it, he has to erase it, he has to fix things!

Over and over, he is forced to witness the idyllic life of his counterpart; how he studies, how he helps his mom, how he plays with his mom, how he has fun.

Disgusting.

He's the one who should be there, he's the one who should be tightly embraced by his mother. He's the one…

Searing hot tears stream down his cheeks and finally, at least for a moment, blur out the scene. He's aware of loud sobs and cries, but somehow, he can't understand that he's the one crying out. The tears dripping into his trembling palms are black, murky black that doesn't resemble tears at all.

He rips off his eye patch, soaked through and through with them. He had always hated that eye. Just a side effect of time travel, he knew, but it changed nothing about the fact that the sclera was a bottomless dark, just like his pupils.

But now, now they are both like that. He saw in a window. Even his unpatched eye is black now, the purple of his iris strangely standing out even more than before. It is a detestable look.

"One more time…" he murmurs to no one, just voicing his thoughts since they are all over the place.

But once again, he arrives back here, back to this Add, back to this timeline. His body quakes in badly restrained rage.

The boy is staring at him again, eyes betraying fear. This little boy, this little boy had everything he'd ever wished for. Everything!

_He failed again._

"All this work… All this work, all this effort!" Add cries out, clenching his fists by his sides. "All of my effort and time ended up being so worthless, and I was never even rewarded?!" He grinds his teeth, body shaking involuntarily. "In that case, I'll destroy this damned world!"

With a pained yell, he orders the Dynamo, and they scatter all around. Brimming with the pure energy from the El shards, they start tearing into the reality's fabric, leaving massive holes in their wakes. He moves his hands, orders the Dynamo around as they claw their way through the dimension. The leftover holes start cracking on their own, shutting further and further until almost everything is swallowed by the swirling pink void.

"I'll get it right next time, yes, next time I'll get it right," he mutters. "I'll get it right, I'll fix it, I'll fix _everything_!"

He looks back to the boy, who is trembling like a leaf and holding onto the door for dear life. " _I just need to erase the mistakes first_!"


	3. Progression [Character study; Esper]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He shakes his head, sure it is just the lack of sleep playing tricks on his mind, but the blackness doesn't leave, in fact it just keeps pouring out and staining his clothes even darker.

Esper didn't much pay attention to himself, not when he was traveling to and fro through timelines. After all, there wasn't anything important about him, it was the timeline he was interested in. He was so indulged in trying to find the right one, _his_ one, that he completely abandoned caring for himself.

So it wasn't much of a surprise when he didn't notice any red flags throughout the travels. But that was because everything else was much more interesting than the state of his body. (Really, why should he care about a scratch or two, anyway?)

So when he manages to get himself almost killed (he _didn't_ fail the calculations! One of his Dynamos just malfunctioned, that's all) he finally has to look at the wounds to make sure he wouldn't die (he could just cast a Seal of time, it wasn't that big of a deal; he had to do it a few times already. He wouldn't say it was exactly pleasant, knowing he was no longer alive but just living on a cheatery of time, but he always forced those thoughts to the back of his mind, into a dark corner and onto a pile of other things that would've been much better forgotten).

What he sees makes him stop, the blood in his veins going ice cold. If you could even call it blood anymore. His wide eyes stare incredulously at the gash in his abdomen, more specifically at the liquid oozing in streams out of it. It's pitch black, resembling ink more than blood and when he touches it, it clings to his gloves and won't come off, won't won't _won't **won't**_.

It isn't possible. It just isn't.

He shakes his head, sure it is just the lack of sleep playing tricks on his mind, but the blackness doesn't leave, in fact it just keeps pouring out and staining his clothes even darker.

He brings the hand up to his nose to smell it and _recoils_ , bile rising in his throat as he smells decay instead of anything metallic. He chokes and the next thing he knows he's vomiting, on his hands and knees (when did he fall?), gazing at the sick black bile that still clings to his lips by a thin thread.

He stands on shaky legs and keeps shaking his head. It doesn't make sense. Why is this happening? Did the time traveling have this effect on a human body? Could he still be called a human if it did?

He casts the Seal of time, just in time since he feels the nauseating feeling of his organs failing in just a few minutes. It's gone just as quickly and he keeps casting it, until he bandages the wounds and hides the darkness from his eyes, from the others' eyes.

He decides he's fine. If he doesn't think about it, it will stop existing. It isn't the best coping mechanism, but who is there to tell him so?

So he keeps trying to find mother, to save her, all while ignoring himself. He isn't important here. It's her, always her, only her.

What is a bit of side effects when he can set things right?

Right?


	4. A new start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He just wants to go back to the lab for now. There may be something in the book Glave gave him, something he overlooked, something crucial, something that’d help.

He wants nothing more than to throw himself into his chair and fall asleep, but the still hasn’t been successful. He saw… how many timelines had he seen today? What was today even? He hasn’t been in his timeline for a long time. He saw so many others, though. So many Adds, some with fate same as him, some with fate even worse, and many with lives exactly as he’d dreamed of.

And each of them was _wrong_.

Wrong, wrong, wrong. No matter how many times he travels back, the timelines are always _wrong_.

He just wants to go back to the lab for now. There may be something in the book Glave gave him, something he overlooked, something crucial, something that’d help.

The pink of the rift is almost hypnotizing as he stares into it. It seems ready to swallow him whole. He jumps in, into the neverending stream of time, mercilessly pouring forward. The corridor is somehow narrow, even though Add knows it is, in fact, endless.

His Dynamo opens a rift back to his timeline. Halfway there, Add doubles over as pain courses through his stomach. It twists around inside of him, forcing pained groans out of him.

When was the last time he’d eaten? Yesterday? Yeah, yesterday.

 _When_ was yesterday, though? He’d been traveling time and space for a long time. He grit his teeth and crossed through the rift, still holding his aching stomach.

His lab greets him with darkness. Had he turned off the lights? He didn’t remember. He’s sure there’s some food stored in the drawers. Some supplies from Velder, maybe even some chocolate, if he’s lucky. He’s no longer sure what remained of them; he hadn’t gone out to buy more in some time. Or was it just a week?

He finds it somehow funny that he’d lost track of time. It started to blur together for him, throwing him completely off.

He trips over something and his face meets the ground rather intimatelly. He thinks it’s his screwdriver, but when his eyes focus on the offending tool, it isn’t a screwdriver. It’s a wrench, and when he looks around, he sees the whole floor covered in other tools and pieces of metal.

He slowly stands up, his stomach’s ache fading to the back of his mind.

This is… definitely his lab, he’s sure of it. But it’s full of things he doesn’t use, full of things that are useless to his research. He looks, but he can’t find his papers, nor the book from Glave anywhere.

Where is he? Or, more importantly, _when_ is he?

His breath catches in his throat. Is this his timeline? Someone else’s? Did he overshoot it? This has never happened to him before.

He’s curious, he wants answers, but he’s also tired and in pain. His mind stops for a moment and he just kneels there after pulling himself up. He might’ve fallen asleep there, he’s not too sure. He does come back to himself when the door opens, though.

His head snaps in its direction and he squints at the figure standing there. The figure stares back.

Is it another Add? He doesn’t look young, though. He looks to be about the same age as him. (What age is he anyway? He swears he knew once.) How did he get to his lab? Or, perharps… Is he the one who’s an unwelcome intruder?

“What the…?” the other Add questions, flicking the lights on. He’s carrying a box of components and sets it down when he takes notice of Add. “Who are you? What are you doing here?!”

Add blinks up. Yes, that;s definitely his voice. Even though it’s harsh and aggressive, it is undoubtedly his. The other Add looks nothing like him, however.

His hair is tousled upwards and he’s wearing an outfit with enough chains to restrain three people and a Phoru.

His words finally register in Add’s mind. Who is he? Did he even have to ask?

He opens his mouth for a remark, but thinks better of it. Telling this other Add he’s him would just confuse everything. He thinks of what to say.

Some people across the timelines sometimes called him diabolical. He doesn’t like it, but it stuck, unfortunately. Some also called him Esper. He likes that. Some put them together; he didn’t like that either, but it did roll off the tongue.

“I’m Esper,” he says finally, quietly, as he stands up. He should go back to his timeline, he has no business here.

He orders his Dynamo to open a rift, but before he could even think of stepping inside, the other Add flings himself at him.

He barely dodges a fist that would’ve connected with his jaw and hops back, trying his damnest to stop the whole room from spinning around. Black spots dance in his vision and he shakes his head to clear it. It just makes the pounding worse.

He glares at the other Add, dropping his centre of gravity. He was just going to leave, but if he wants to be like this, then that’s just fine by him.

He catches the kick coming at him with a small gravity field and sends the other flying backwards into a mess on the floor with an energy ball.

He growls, flinging himself on top of the man and pining down his torso. His hands wrap around the other’s throat. They’re trembling.

He attempts to choke the other, but his vision suddenly wavers before going black altogether. Then, he’s gone.

 


	5. Rewriting history

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He almost calms down, almost, but then remembers that this isn't his lab. The floor is even messier than his - is that even possible? Apparently so - and he can barely see the components for making plasma in some boxes. Nope, not his lab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to warn you all; there are gore features in this chapter, so be cautious if that isn't your cup of tea! :^)

Esper stands in a field. The wind is blowing softly, making all the colorful flowers wave to and fro. His hair flutters in front of his eyes from time to time, but it doesn't hinder his vision. The grass is strangely cold and pleasant to his - strangely - bare feet.

The sun shines on his back warmly, yet even so his skin rises with goosebumps. There's something to the serenity of this place that seems perfect, too perfect. Alarmingly perfect.

There are birds chirping somewhere away, and Esper takes a moment to search for them. He finds a pair of them nestled in a tree to his right, cooing happily, without a care.

Esper turns his attention back to the field, to the tall, swaying grass and the flowers in full bloom. Red, blue, white, yellow; colors dot the field in an organized chaos.

And in the middle of it sits a lone figure.

Esper narrows his eyes in an attempt to see who it is, but they're too far away for him to be sure. His feet move almost on their own and carry him in the direction of the person. Each step he takes makes it easier to discern who it is.

Sitting on the grass, with a flower in her hair and a smile playing on her face, is his mother. Esper's breath catches in his throat.

"Mom!" he cries, wide purple eyes filling with tears as he collapses onto his knees in front of her. "Mom…"

She doesn't move, but she keeps smiling at him. Her eyes are closed, almost like she is dozing off. Esper reaches out to touch her cheek, but as soon as his fingers touch her, the whole world shatters.

Her eyes open, sclera a disgusting, bottomless black pit with purple irises. They gaze at Esper with unending coldness, a mirror image of his own disgusting eyes. Her lips curl up, pulling back to reveal long teeth that sneer at him menacingly. Something red - blood? The smell says so - pours out through the gaps between them, dripping down her too-pale chin and falling onto the greenery on the ground.

Esper can't manage anything else than a pitiful whimper, immediately shuffling backwards in an attempt to escape her. It doesn't work, though.

She reaches out with a hand that doesn't have her gentle fingers anymore. In their place, sharp claws threaten to rip through his flesh. Esper is powerless to stop her from grabbing his top and holding him too close for comfort.

She opens her mouth to speak, and her voice makes Esper's heart stop. "You left me," she accuses, voice a warble that sounds dead. The bottom of her white dress is slowly licked by flames that start to indulge everything around them. "You left me. You left me," she repeats, each throaty word stabbing into Esper's heart.

He wants to object, but his voice is gone and he cannot even force himself to look away from her face.

"If only you died!"

* * *

He jolts up, wide eyes darting all around his lab.

His breathing is labored and his heart thumps away wildly in his ribcage. He can even feel the wetness left behind on his cheeks by his disgusting, black tears.

He almost calms down, almost, but then remembers that this isn't his lab. The floor is even messier than his - is that even possible? Apparently so - and he can barely see the components for making plasma in some boxes. Nope, not his lab.

It becomes painfully obvious when he can't stand up, his hands bound behind his back and to a table leg. He hisses at this discovery, struggling vainly. It doesn't help.

He's so preoccupied with the too tight binds that he doesn't notice the other Add walking up to him until he's standing right in front of him.

He lets out a growl involuntarily, gazing up. The other Add glares back at him. Esper tries to wiggle out of the bounds, but it's hopeless, they're too tight.

"I'll kill you," he growls, his lips pulling back to reveal his pristine teeth. Just like an animal. "I'll kill you, I'll kill you, I'll kill you! I don't care if you're me, I'll kill you!" he repeats.

The other Add regards him with risen brows. "'If you're me'?" he repeats, squatting down to be on the same eye level as Esper. "Huh, so you're Add?"

Esper growls again, tugging against the restraints. They dig painfully into his wrists and he can feel them bite through the pale flesh, staining it with blood.

"Huh," the unrestrained Add hums, looking him up and down. "What're you doing here?"

Esper glares up, but when he sees the other Add isn't going to do anything else, he finally opens his mouth. "I'm _fixing_ everything," he hisses, low and threatening.

"What're you fixing?"

_What is the point of this questioning?_ , Esper wonders briefly. "Everything. _Everything_! The whole past!"

"The past…? What about it?"

" _Everything_! My whole life, _your_ whole life," he says, lips turning up into a lopsided grin. "I'm fixing it _all_."

"Then why would you want to kill me?"

"Because you're wrong! This whole timeline is wrong, I shouldn't have ended up here in the first place!" He struggles again, but it is as fruitless as before. Pain floods his arms with every movement of the chains against his raw wounds.

"If I let you go, will you try to fight me again?" the other Add asks.

"You were the one who started it!" Esper bites back immediately.

"I know. So, will you?"

Esper thinks about it. His body is still weak, stomach is still doing flips from starvation, and his wrists have gone numb. "No."

"Then let me undo them. I'm interested in the whole 'fixing' dealio." The calloused fingers then get rid of the chains around Esper's wrists and pull him up. "Mind staying a bit?"

By all means, he should say no and quickly return through a rift. He has to try again, after all. This is nothing but a useless, annoying interference. But his lips move on their own, out of sync with his muddled mind. "Sure," he mutters, surprising himself.

"Great! I always thought another me would be cool!" the other Add rambles excitedly.

What had he gotten himself into?

"Oh, and by the way, you can call me Lusa."


	6. Monster [Character study; Esper]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Esper clicks his tongue. The word leaves a disgusting aftertaste in his mouth.
> 
> Monster…
> 
> What are monsters?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a character study I guess?? Idk it got out of the hand but it’s supposed to show how Esper changed over the course of the time after he started time traveling?

"Monster…"

Esper turns at the murmur. It's him, he's the one saying it. His other self, barely reaching up to his chest and trembling so much he resembles a leaf in autumn. His eyes are wide and full of fear as he watches Esper from far away.

"You're a monster…"

Esper grits his teeth. He turns back to his Dynamos, which are still busy opening rifts in the fabric of reality. The rifts tear into the whole dimension, mercilessly and efficiently destroying it from the core.

He spares a glare as he jumps into one. It doesn't matter. This dimension is wrong, _he_ is wrong. What he says doesn't matter.

* * *

"Monster!"

People scream at him, running away in panic. Esper stops. He hasn't even done anything.

Yet.

He grits his teeth and motions for the Dynamo. Energy gathers at their tips, and Esper lets it go with a quiet snicker.

Those idiots think he's a monster? They think they have to fear him and run for their lives at the sight of him?

Well, he can give them something to fear, alright!

* * *

"Monster."

The murmur leaves his lips without his permission, and he is baffled for a moment.

His reflection states back at him from the dirty window. He looks disgusted. Not that he can say he feels much, everything kind of started blurring together a while back, but he thinks he doesn't feel particularly disgusted.

He touches his fingers to the cold surface of the window and keeps it there for a moment.

Is he really a monster?

He doesn't know. He wants to go home.

* * *

"Monster!"

It hurt, at first, when she yelled this at him. But that only proved she wasn't the right one, she wasn't his.

Esper doesn't even react to the calls anymore. It doesn't mean he can't hear them, though.

Her face scrunches in pain as an electrical current runs through her nerve system. She crumples to the ground.

She wasn't the right one, so it doesn't matter.

She wasn't _his_ mom.

* * *

"Monster…"

It doesn't feel like a real word anymore, with how many times he had heard it uttered. He rolls it around his tongue, trying its taste. It feels artificial, like it isn't supposed to be like it is.

Esper clicks his tongue. The word leaves a disgusting aftertaste in his mouth.

Monster…

What are monsters?

* * *

"M-Monster!"

He had already heard this. He had already seen this. So many times, over and over. It's always the same.

His young counterpart cowers by the door as he looks over the house. It doesn't look right, there's something off about it, though he can't say quite what.

Or, maybe, it could just be his imagination playing tricks again. It likes to do that.

This timeline is also wrong.

He sighs, dejected, and calls his Dynamo. He has to erase the mistakes, doesn't he?

* * *

"Monster…" he mutters quietly, shying away from the gentle fingers on his cheek. This is wrong, wrong, _wrong_!

He can't allow Lusa to do this. He can't do this!

He pushes the berserker away, bringing his knees up to his chest. Tears sting the backs of his eyes.

"Lusa-" He chokes on a sob and it feels like a dam breaking open, because the next second he can't control the tears running down his cheeks, nor the wails ripping from his lips. "Lusa, Lusa…"

The touch on his knees feels so weird, but only because Lusa's being gentle deliberately. Esper knows how hard his hold can be, how strong his hands are. He doesn't understand why Lusa's gentle.

He peeks up through the tears, trying to blink them away. It only works partially, and Lusa's face is still slightly blurred.

He curses his own voice, for not obeying him. "Lusa, you shouldn't… touch me…" It sounds so pitiful, he wants to cringe.

Why won't Lusa understand? Why won't he back away? Why won't he glare at him? Why won't he damn him? Why won't he _understand_?

"I'm a monster, Lusa…"

* * *

"You're a monster."

Esper knew Glave had been watching him, how could he not? But he didn't know that he intended to get involved.

Esper turns to the masked time traveler and straightens.

"Why do you say that?" Esper asks, eyes falling down to his hands. He wipes the still dripping blood from his fingers. He's not sure whose blood it is anymore.

Glave just shakes his head sadly.

* * *

"I'm a monster!"

Esper laughs, the sound of it hollow and nowhere joyous. He holds his counterpart up by the hem of his shirt and grins at the scared, _frightened_ expression on his face.

"That's right!" Esper's shoulders shake with laughter. He was going to say it. His younger self always did. So what did it matter if he beat him to it?

After all, the truth doesn't change if someone else says it.

* * *

"Why?" Lusa asks, and his voice is enough to freeze Esper. He takes in shaky breaths, but he's not sobbing anymore.

Lusa doesn't pull away.

In fact, he scoots closer and wraps himself around Esper, almost like a blanket. Esper doesn't understand.

"I… I…"

"Because you did some bad things?" Lusa grounds him, and god damn if he doesn't need it. His shaking fingers curl around the fabric of Lusa's vest and he clings to the berserker for dear life.

Lusa has no idea what he'd done. Or how many times he had done those things. Over and over and over and over and over-

"That doesn't make you a monster, Esper."

Lusa doesn't know what he's talking about. He hasn't seen, he doesn't know.

He grits his teeth as the tears come back. "Please…" he rasps, "stop… You don't know…"

Lusa cradles him close and doesn't let go even as the black tears stain his clothes. Esper wants to stop crying, he really does, but he can't.

"I know you, Esper," Lusa mutters near his ear. "And I know you're not a monster."

Esper clings to those words, to Lusa, to the love he's being shown.

Would it be so bad to believe in that lie, if only once?


	7. Fix it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why couldn't _Lusa_ be the one happy?

Esper looks into the time and space rift. Warbling colors, indecipherable images flashing and making his eyes hurt. The variables looked just like every other time, but just like every other time, he knows it would end up badly. He has more than enough data to be able to say that without a doubt.

But still, a small part of him, an irrational part that wished for the impossible all the time, screams at him to go through with it.

So Esper crosses through the rift, going through the ever-changing continuum, darkness swirling around him until he reaches another rift, held open by his Dynamos.

He finds himself back at the village, again. He doesn't even try to find his mother this time, just stays there, standing and looking over the village that hadn't been burned down.

 _Calculating discrepancy rate of the past using inputted data. Rate: 39.16%. Due to this high discrepancy rate it's hard to conclude that this is the same world_ , his Dynamo let him know. He already knows that this isn't the right world.

Esper looks at the backyard, sees himself sitting on the grass with his mother. 'Didn't even need to look for her,' he laughs.

The smile plastered on his face - his other self's face - makes him choke up. Tears spring into his eyes and he doesn't even fight them back.

It's not fair! It's not fair it's not fair _not fair not fair not fair not fair_ -

Why couldn't he be the one happy? Why?!

He thinks back to Lusa and an involuntary growl escapes his lips.

Why couldn't _Lusa_ be the one happy?

_Not fair not fair not fair **not fair not fair**_ **-**

Esper moves forward, fluidly coming in on the other Add, Dynamos prepared and crackling with static. 'You piece of shit,' Esper thinks as his Dynamos form into an offensive stance. It could've been _Lusa_ here. It could've been _me_.

The Dynamos charge with the energy from a rift and Esper lets it go with an enraged cry. The power blast consumes everything around him, turning everything from the idyle he dreamt of into a pile of ashes and ruins. He is only safe because of his armor. Because of the enhancements Lusa helped him install.

Lusa.

Esper blinks away from the ruined scenery (which is somehow even worse than the whole village slaughtered and burned down) and reaches for the rift again.

He left Lusa alone. He needs to go back.

He hops through it, crossing the route back. At least he thinks it's the route back. The variables are always unstable inside the continuum.

Esper emerges back in the laboratory, his Dynamos closing the rift after him. Lusa is by the giant table, poring over his own Dynamos with a small screwdriver in hand. Esper's return rouses him from his faraway state that he always falls into when working. He stands up and turns to look at the other.

"Esper!" he exclaims when he takes in the state of his partner. The time traveler looks disheveled, hair sticking out in all directions and body covered in tiny cuts and bruises. "What did you do to yourself?"

Esper lets himself be guided into one of the chairs by Lusa, who digs in the mess on the table in search of the dwindling first aid kit. And whose fault is that?

Lusa brushes the silver hair out of Esper's face and looks into his eyes. They're gradually changing from their bottomless darkness back into the normal white.

"You can't keep doing this," Lusa says, an off-hand comment while he cleans and bandages the cuts all over Esper's body. "It's ruining your body again at the rate you're going."

Esper doesn't reply for a while, but finally mutters, "I want to fix it." It's quiet enough that Lusa could've easily missed it over the sounds of shuffling bandages. He doesn't, though. "I need to fix it… Lusa, I… I want to- I _need_ to- fix it… I need..." Esper devolves into incoherent babbling, the only comprehensible words being 'Lusa' and 'fix'.

Lusa holds the time traveler close, rubbing up and down his back gently in an attempt to calm the other down. It pains him to see Esper do this to himself, but he also knows Esper is just doing the best he can. They both are.

"I want… I want you to be happy," Esper whispers, coherently again, but still quietly.

Lusa's hold tightens just a bit, he tugs Esper closer just a bit. A hoarse laugh escapes his lips. "Then good job, because I'm already happy."


	8. Reinitiate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Esper is good at pretending.
> 
> Pretending he's fine, pretending he isn't as far gone as he is, pretending he doesn't want to tear himself into shreds after each and every single failed try at fixing the past.
> 
> He's good at it.
> 
> Good enough to be considered great, really.

Esper is good at pretending.

Pretending he's fine, pretending he isn't as far gone as he is, pretending he doesn't want to tear himself into shreds after each and every single failed try at fixing the past.

He's good at it.

Good enough to be considered great, really.

It comes from practice, trying to convince himself and then all the others as well.

He didn't need to, back at the Ruins. Books couldn't judge him if he talked to himself; if he punched the already cracked stone walls until he couldn't feel his hands anymore; if he scratched himself raw trying to push away the horrifying memories he called his life; if he blinded himself for a while trying to furiously wipe away tears cascading down his cheeks.

But people… People would judge him, even for something as trivial as his habit of laughing all the time. What would people think if they knew exactly how wrecked his mind is? Judge him. Judge judge judge _judge judge_ -

People of different timelines already judged him, feared him.

No. Esper wouldn't be able to take that in this timeline, as well. That's why he is so good at pretending. A front of a mad scientist keeps people just far enough so they wouldn't try to get close, out of both fear and respect.

But there are people Esper couldn't fool with his charade. The people who know him, through and through.

Himself.

Lusa always knows what's wrong after he returns to their timeline, looking both on the verge of tears and ready to tear out someone's eyes; after he wakes up screaming, hands desperately trying to pry away the phantom feeling of hands choking him; after his calculations go wrong and he loses himself for a moment, throwing the closest fragile thing against the floor and then breaking down crying onto its shards.

Lusa knows what's wrong. Lusa knows how Esper feels. Lusa knows how to help. And heavens if they don't need all the help and then some.

Lusa knows, because he feels exactly the same way.

Sometimes it's Esper who wakes up in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat and wide eyes darting around like a scared rabbit, and Lusa is there to hold his shaking body, gentle hands stroking through Esper's bed-matted hair while he whispers quiet promises and encouragements, just like they both used to dream of when life was the opposite.

But sometimes, it's Lusa who wakes up with a start, hands wrapping around himself in an attempt to make himself smaller. Because if he makes himself smaller, they might not notice him, they might not play with him tonight. Then it's Esper who talks to him, no touching; never touching unless Lusa wants him to. Esper who strokes away the rivulets of tears, kisses away the disgusting memories.

When it's just the two of them and the quiet of the laboratory, there is no need for the pretense.

Lusa lets himself be held and doesn't hold the tears back anymore, doesn't keep his sobs to himself, doesn't hesitate to scream. Because he needs to let it go, but it won't go, it's stuck to him, stuck to them, stuck stuck stuck _stuck_ \- and there's nothing he can do but try to vent out his frustration, his anger, his pain.

Time really wasn't nice to anyone.

Esper lets go of the maniacal visage and clings, shaking and whimpering, to Lusa's shoulders in an attempt to burn the contact into his mind. But it's already there, Esper couldn't not have something so amazing not memorized, but the memory he was trying to overwrite with it is still there, as well, and Esper just wants it to go away, go away for fuck's sake, go away go away go away _go away **go away-**_

They are the other's rock, grounding themselves when they desperately need it, but neither ever addresses the real matter. They don't want to talk about it, because they know the other one doesn't want to hear about it, because they themselves don't want to hear about it. They tiptoe around it, trying not to slice themselves on the razor-sharp, broken pieces and pray every day that the memories stop haunting them.

They don't.

Esper grins, vacant eyes staring at the wall as he leans against Lusa's chest. "I did it," he says, words triumphant but voice lacking any attachments to them. "I did it, I saved us." He closes his eyes, chucking softly.

Lusa runs his fingers through the silver strands of his hair, hair that is just like his but somehow feels smoother to his touch, and leans a little further down to hear Esper more clearly.

"At least one of us. No slavery, no Ruins," Esper says. He opens his eyes again, staring up at Lusa with a thoughtful expression. "I wonder how that feels like. I wonder what becomes of him."

Lusa loses himself for a moment in the little fantasy, but he cannot imagine it actually happening. They loved the Ruins, the knowledge it provided them with. Lusa can't imagine losing something with so much meaning to them. Losing something that brought them together.

When he focuses again, Esper is looking at him with a blank stare. Lusa forms a small smile and Esper gives him one right back. He chuckles, pushing himself up and off of Lusa's lap after leaving a small peck on the other's lips.

"I think that's more than enough for a lunch break," Esper says, the smile still present on his face.

"We didn't even eat."

"I know. We'll eat later, got lots of work to do. It's your fault we had this break in the first place."

"That's just because you look like shit."

"Thanks. Got that trait from you."

"Okay, let's go finish the experiment. No bad variables this time."

Esper smiles wider, his eyes looking a little glassy. "No bad variables this time. Just like always."


	9. Late night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He won't admit that taking to Lusa sound more enticing than finishing his hunt for the error, because that would be dumb. That would've been absolutely, one hundred percent blasphemous years ago, when all his life was was the chase after power.  
> Esper isn't sure when that changed.

The laboratory is drenched in darkness, the only sources of light the monitors, way too bright to look at safely. Esper's tired, droopy eyes gaze at them anyway, not wincing only because he had been doing it for… a long time. He's not about to admit he has actually no idea how long it's been.

He rakes through the code, desperately trying to find the source of the error he'd been getting when trying to open dimensional rifts. But it all looks good to him, he can't find the damned error in his calculations. Because there shouldn't be one, because he doesn't make errors in his calculations, he doesn't.

But there _is_ one.

Esper lets out a frustrated growl, massaging the bridge of his nose, but it's virtually useless. So close, he was so close to getting it right. He scans the messier-than-usual lines of code, rowing over variables, values, commands, conditions, and tries fixing his slumped position. It works for maybe a minute, and even that is a little too generous of an overstatement.

He has to find the wrong line, he _has_ to.

_He's so close…_

"Esper." The man in question whirs around, absolutely caught off guard by the voice. Lusa stands in the doorway - how long has he been there? - with a strange look that Esper can't quite place. "What are you doing still up?"

Esper motions absently to the screens with endless streams of code filling them, half shrugging. He won't admit that talking to Lusa sound more enticing than finishing his hunt for the error, because that would be dumb. That would've been absolutely, one hundred percent blasphemous years ago, when all his life was was the chase after power.

Esper isn't sure when that changed.  
Lusa's lips turn down in a frown.  
No, he knows _exactly_ when it changed.

He's sure it's at least a dozen ways weird to be so in love with another version of himself, but he doesn't particularly care, because when he sees Lusa smile at him, when he hears Lusa whisper words sweet like honey to him, he can't be any happier.

His sweet Lusa, who seems to be able to complete him as a person. Lusa, whose mechanic skills are so much better than Esper's (and Esper simply loves it when he gets Lusa to help him with installing upgrades and enhancements; absolutely loves how Lusa looks to be enjoying it so much every time), who is so much like him while simultaneously a completely different person. Well, maybe not completely, but Lusa is different in all the ways that Esper loves it (like his feather-soft hair that Esper enjoys ruffling so much, his sense of humor, or his plush lips that feel heavenly against Esper's).

Esper smiles at Lusa, even though he hates the frown on the other's face. He wants it gone, it doesn't have a place there.

"I'm almost done, Lusa," he says, and the name tastes as nice as each time he says it.

"You said that five hours ago."

Esper doesn't reply, because Lusa is (probably) right and he doesn't want to argue anyway.

"Come to bed, Esper."

Esper's smile widens ad he stands up without a moment of hesitation. He leaves the monitors on to wait until they both return. With a bit of luck, he could even get Lusa to help him look for the stupid error. Well, maybe not. Coding still wasn't one of Lusa's fortes. But that was a matter for the next morning, because right now, he would go with Lusa and sleep.

Because Lusa said ' _Come to bed_ ', not ' _Go to bed_ ' or ' _Go to sleep_ '. And that, in Lusa's dictionary, meant ' _Come to bed_ with me'.


	10. Uncertainty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you want to talk about it?" Lusa isn't good at this, he knows, he's never been, but if Esper feels as awkward as Lusa, he doesn't say so.

Lusa sits up with a start, eyes automatically going to the alarm clock sitting on his bedside table. The blue light spells out 2:41. 2:41 in the _fucking morning_ , no less.

He gets up with a loud groan, pushing his bed-matted hair out of his eyes.

Even with the thick walls, he can hear the other screaming loud and clear. He wants to go tell the other to shut up and let him sleep, goddammit, he had had a long day; but standing in front of the old workshop - now Esper's room - the anger slowly melts away.

Esper is actually crying, not just screaming, and the heart wrenching sounds are more than enough to make him forget he was angry in the first place.

With a heavy heart, he knocks on the door. He's not sure what he expected, but Esper doesn't answer. He enters anyway.

"Esper?" he calls out, crossing the room. It'd been almost bare when he gave it to the time traveler, but now he had to step over research papers and electromagnetic components strews all over the floor.

Esper is sitting on the bed, nestled on the pillow with his knees drawn up and hugged. Lusa gently sits himself on the edge of the bed, trying to find words. Esper had noticed him, of course he had; he's looking at him with wide, red-rimmed eyes. His tears are black, Lusa notices. That, or it's just the light playing tricks on him.

"What's wrong?" he asks, and immediately wants yo shove the words back into his mouth. Esper doesn't reply, he just looks at Lusa, examines him up and down.

Lusa is just wondering whether he should leave the other alone when Esper finally speaks up. His voice is quiet, almost like he's afraid to say it.

"I had a nightmare."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lusa isn't good at this, he knows, he's never been, but if Esper feels as awkward as Lusa, he doesn't say so.

"…no."

"Well… Are you gonna be alright?"

Esper just shrugs, eyes trained to the bed covers.

"Okay..." It's so awkward; Esper is him but he also isn't, and Lusa has no idea what to do when faced with Esper's raw emotions. So he stands up again, intending to leave the time traveler alone until he calms down.

Esper catches his sleeve before he can take a step. He turns back to see Esper biting at his lower lip. When he speaks, it's even quieter than before, easily overheard if Lusa wasn't paying attention. "…please stay..."

Lusa sits again, but Esper doesn't let go of his shirt. "Is that what you need?"

He gets a small, hesitant nod in return.

"What else do you need?"

"Can I… hold you?" He's not sure why, but he hates the hesitant, scared tone of Esper's voice.

"Yeah."

Esper wraps his arms around him, sprawling himself over Lusa's lap. He didn't want to hold Lusa, he wanted to _be held_. They stay like that, Esper slowly calming down and relaxing within Lusa's stabilising hold.

"Thanks, Lusa…"

He still didn't know what to do, but if Esper told him, it could turn out good, he supposed.

"Don't worry about it."


	11. Hey--

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> puns

“Hey, hey Esper.”

Esper rolls over, groaning as he presses his face further into the pillow. “Go to sleep, Lusa,” he grumbles, because for some goddamned reason, the berserker is too keen on not allowing him to sleep tonight.

Lusa doesn’t let up, though, simply pokes his exposed shoulder. It makes him pull the covers up a bit more. “Imagine a living room,” Lusa prompts him.

“Will you let me sleep if I do?” the time traveler asks, sighing. He’s slowly giving up on sleep with each passing word, but it’d still be nice to get an actual night’s sleep, for once.

“Mmm,” Lusa pretends to ponder, “maybe.”

“Ugh, fine. I’m imagining a living room.”

“Okay, and the curtains are drawn.”

Esper rolls his closed eyes. “Sure, fine, they’re drawn.”

“The rest of the furniture is real, though.”

The grin is audible in Lusa’s voice and even Esper can’t help a snort. “What’s this?” he asks, “Why are you telling me puns?”

Lusa chuckles softly and wraps his arm around Esper’s side. “Why not, right? Remember the research I was writing down earlier today?”

Esper hums a soft yes. “Something about electromagnetic fields and their reactions to plasma, right?”

“Yeah.” Lusa is a little stunned that Esper remembers such an unimportant fact, but he recomposes himself quickly. “My pencil was broken. The whole thing was pointless.”

Esper snorts again, evolving into small giggles. “You’re the worst, you know that?” There’s a smile on his face, though, even as he says that.

“Yeah, I’m the worst at math. That’s why two n plus two n is four n to me,” Lusa laughs straight into Esper’s ear. The other is playing right into his cards. Esper joins him, quiet snickers filling the bedroom’s air. “Hey, did you hear about my rose phobia?”

“Your what?” Esper turns around again, looking at Lusa in the almost nonexistent moonlight. He’s sporting a giant grin, splitting his face from ear to ear.

“Yeah, it’s a really thorny issue. No idea where it stems from.”

Esper weakly hits Lusa’s shoulder, but he still laughs. “How many of these do you even have?” he asks between his chuckles.

“A bunch,” Lusa admits, pulling the other closer. Their noses brush slightly and he can feel Esper’s breath fanning over his face. Everything seems so warm and soft, with the blanket covering them and the sweet smile adorning the time traveler’s face. “I have one about wind, but it blows.”

Esper can’t stop his laughter at this point, and instead of hitting the brawler again, he just fists his shirt and holds him close while he softly shakes his head. “You blow,” he accuses his counterpart huffingly.

“Maybe later, when you don’t look like you’ll pass out halfway through it.”

“That’s because you’re keeping me up with your dumb puns!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” Lusa’s arms tighten around Esper’s midriff, thumb rubbing over the soft skin on his protruding hipbone. Esper hums contently, wiggling so he’s even closer and burying his face into the fabric of Lusa’s night shirt. He closes his eyes and listens to the brawler’s heartbeat, breathing in his scent.

It’s nice.

“Hey Esper.”

He groans, clenching his fists. “What?” he almost whines.

“How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?”

“You said you’d stop.”

“Ten tickles.”

Esper bursts into a chuckle again. He can’t even pretend to be mad anymore. “Damn it.”


	12. Echoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Lusa looked at Esper, sometimes, just sometimes, he wouldn’t see him. He wouldn’t see a man as tall as him, as clever as him, as strong as him.
> 
> Sometimes, he would see a child.

When Lusa looked at Esper, sometimes, just sometimes, he wouldn’t see him. He wouldn’t see a man as tall as him, as clever as him, as strong as him.

Sometimes, he would see a child.

The memories of being stuck in that awful cell still plague his mind to this day, no matter how much he ignores and forces them down. And looking at Esper is like looking at a mirror back then.

Like when he sees the time traveler sitting on the kitchen counter in the morning, his night shirt hanging off his pale shoulder to showcase the bony figure — something inside Lusa churns uncomfortably, and he makes sure to make a little more toast for breakfast.

Or when Esper changes in front of him and Lusa catches a glance of the disgustingly vivid scars on his back — scars that mirror his own — he feels the overwhelming urge to wrap Esper within his arms and make sure nothing like that would happen again.

Even when Esper shows his tremendous power, Lusa still can’t help but worry. Esper is reckless in battle. Calculated and precise, but reckless nonetheless. He doesn’t care much for getting hurt, so it’s up to Lusa to make sure his wounds would get treated. And it’s not a pleasant sight, to see Esper covered in his blood — it’s way too close for comfort, way too close to when they’d escaped—

Lusa sighs lowly, rolling out of his bed. It looks like sleep keeps evading him, and he doesn’t much care for staying alone with these thoughts.

His feet patter down the hallway, unsure where he’s actually going. Just out of his room.

He ends up in the kitchen, something catching his eye right as he enters.

Though the light in the room is off, it’s obvious Esper is inside, sitting on the counter again, feet pulled up to rest against the cupboard doors, absently swinging back and forth every few seconds. Even his hands rest between his legs, hanging over the counter’s edge.

The time traveler is staring forward blankly, face as blank as a sheet of paper. The moonlight from the window is the only thing illuminating the room, and even that only barely, so he doubts Esper is looking at anything in particular.

A steaming mug of what he would bet is coffee sits next to him, but it appears to be untouched.

“Esper?” The figure turns to him, glowing eyes blinking as Esper’s legs stop their faint swinging. “Can’t sleep?”

“I had a nightmare,” Esper mumbles, averting his eyes.

Lusa steps closer to him, stands between his legs and raises a hand to brush Esper’s fringe out of his face. Esper’s hands twitch where they rest, but ultimately remain unmoving and allow Lusa to gently stroke along his scalp. “Wanna sleep with me?”

He says he sees a child when he looks at Esper sometimes, but that’s not true. He just sees the echo of the memories of the far past, the leftovers of pain they had gone through. Reopened wounds that maybe sting even more now, he’s not sure. But he knows he’s not letting Esper deal with it on his own either.


	13. Further (1/2) [Smut]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How far do you want to go today?" Lusa asks, lips still brushing Esper's and his breath fanning over the other's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated M. It is also a part of a two shot, so there'll be another one following with Lusa ;)

Esper can't breathe.

Esper can't breathe, because he fears that if he will, it will turn out to be a dream. And god, he doesn't want that.

Lusa's fingers roaming the expanse of his pale skin feel absolutely delightful, even sending small sparks dancing across his nerve endings.

And when Lusa's lips latch onto the patch of skin where his neck connects to his collarbone and sucks, Esper lets out a shaky breath that makes his whole body tremble.

Lusa's lips curl into a smile and he leaves a kiss on the marked flesh (Esper will later complain about the mark, how off it looks on his otherwise flawless neck, but he'll still love it and run his fingers over it gently without even noticing. He just won't let Lusa know that). Esper heaves in a gulp of air and lo and behold, Lusa is still there, hovering over him with that stupid looking smile still plastered on his face. (Does Esper smile like that when looking at Lusa, too?)

Lusa leans down and presses their lips together again, hungrily devouring every mewl that escapes Esper.

"How far do you want to go today?" Lusa asks, lips still brushing Esper's and his breath fanning over the other's face. 

Esper loves this. Esper loves that Lusa never does anything without permission. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows it's because they already went through that and Lusa doesn't want to do something like that to Esper, to himself. Not again. Never again.

Esper's hands come up to wind around Lusa's shoulders. "As far as you want to," he replies. He'd be content to just hold onto Lusa like that, but if Lusa wants to go further, he's not going to say no.

And Lusa obviously wants to go further, if the hand snaking down Esper's stomach is any indication. It makes its way between his legs and wastes no time slipping into his pants.

Lusa's fingers curl around the heated flesh and with just a few strokes get Esper to full hardness.

Esper can't help but wiggle in his spot on the bed. Lusa's hand feels nothing like his own and he's reduced to pitiful mewls and small moans in about no time flat. He wants to clamp a hand over his mouth, to stop those weak sounds from leaving him, but Lusa's full attention is on his face and there's something in that expression of his, something so powerful, so passionate that Esper doesn't mind looking weak. At least to Lusa.

Lusa's hand leaves him and he whines, but Lusa just leans in to trail kisses all over his cheek and neck while tugging the cotton pants off. He likes that idea.

And then the hand is back, making Esper's hands clutch tighter on Lusa's shoulders. His nails might be digging into the skin there, but Lusa doesn't complain if they are.

Esper bucks into the touch and tries to match Lusa's steady pace. "Lusa…" he moans out, not much louder than a whisper, but it still makes Lusa tighten his hold just a bit, and that, in turn, makes Esper moan again.

Lusa knows just how to touch him to bring him pleasure, knows just how much he loves the thumb running over the weeping head of his arousal.

Esper isn't sure whether he loves it or hates it. The way Lusa can reduce him to a sweaty, taunt mess, panting and moaning without restraint, looking so _pitiful_ and _weak_ \- 

"Lusa!" Esper moans, caught off-guard by a stronger pump.

"You're thinking again," Lusa chuckles, sinful fingers making Esper forget what it was he'd been thinking in the first place. It couldn't've been very important if he's able to forget it so easily. "Stop that."

Esper nods, nods and nods again. Lusa starts alternating between his tempos and Esper gets lost in the pleasure flooding his veins, liquid, potent.

His hips rise on their own, meeting every single movement of Lusa's hand. He bites down on his bottom lip when it feels like he's moaning nonstop, but even that doesn't help and his whole body twists, arching off the covers in hopes of trying to feel more of Lusa against himself.

"You sound so cute," Lusa mutters, capturing Esper's lips and the ' _Shut up!_ ' budding on his tongue and trying to to get him to stop biting his lips. They're swollen either way, but Esper doesn't mind when he licks them. He just opens them, inviting Lusa to thrust his tongue inside. It runs over Esper's teeth before meeting the time traveler's own. They glide against each other, tangling pleasantly.

Esper's mount always tastes like iron - that might be because he bit through his own lip just now, but it was usually because he couldn't stop gnawing on the insides of his cheek - and something else, something much softer but kind of bitter, just like Yggdrasil leaves, but Lusa loves it anyway. It's uniquely Esper, and he absently wonders what Esper tastes from him.

"Ah, Lusa-" Esper twists away, breathing heavily in short puffs as his chest heaves with each intake. His normally pale cheeks are flushed a bright red and Lusa thinks it suits him very much.

"Lusa, Lusa-" he moans, one hand clutching at Lusa's back almost painfully while the other moves up to tug at his hair. Lusa would've never thought that hearing his name moaned in his own voice would be so arousing, but hearing it from Esper, hoarse and desperate, makes him shudder involuntarily.

"Right here," he says, unrelenting in his ministrations.

"Lusa, I'm… I'm so close, Lusa…" Esper replies, voice bordering on a whimper. He'd shut his eyes a while back, but opened them again now, to look up at Lusa. They are brimming with tears.

A soon as Lusa comes to the conclusion that they are just from pleasure and not from pain, he feels a surge of self-accomplishment. "Just close? Then I have to try harder, don't I?"

Lusa thumbs the tip, dips his finger into the slit because he knows it drives Esper wild.

"Lusaaaa-!" Esper cries, the name morphing into a moan at the end.

His hips move on their own accord, unable to stop moving even in the throes of ecstasy. He sees white and the world disappears for a moment and there's nothing but him and Lusa, Lusa who's grinning at him when he comes back to himself. He's sweaty and sticky and in a dire need of a shower but he can still feel Lusa's hardness pressing into his thigh.

He's about to return the favor when Lusa opens his mouth.

"God, you sound so cute when you come."

"Shut up!"


	14. Further (2/2) [Smut]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're so beautiful," Esper mumbles, mostly unconsciously.
> 
> Lusa gifts him with another grin. "Didn't know you were this narcissistic."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have told you there'd be part two. ohh boy, i did it.  
> Anyway, this part is rated M, and contains ungodly amounts of nsfw.

Lusa is chuckling, and no matter how lovely that sounds, Esper wants him to shut up. He props himself up with his elbows and pushes Lusa back, efficiently flipping their positions. He hovers over Lusa, who is still wearing his shirt and pants.

Oh, that wouldn't do.

Esper's still shaky fingers tug the cotton up and over Lusa's head and he takes a moment to just stare at the revealed flesh. No matter how many times he's seen Lusa naked, it never ceases to be absolutely breathtaking. Esper wonders how they can even be the same person when he runs his lithe fingers over Lusa's defined muscles. It always felt like Lusa could break him in two if he tried.

Knowing that makes a part of Esper's mind - the self-conscious, power-hungry part - seethe, but there is also a part of him that is absolutely _delighted_ in knowing that. Because he knows Lusa would never hurt him.

"You're so beautiful," Esper mumbles, mostly unconsciously.

Lusa gifts him with another grin. "Didn't know you were this narcissistic."

Esper's eyebrows knit together. "You're the worst." With that remark, he presses his lips against Lusa's. His hands busy themselves with pulling down Lusa's pants while his tongue delves into the other's mouth.

He can never get enough of Lusa. His taste and the touch of their tongue is almost like a drug. A soft tone of fruit and something indescribable, purely Lusa, floods his tastebuds and he wants more.

If he wasn't so far gone, he might even be scared of his own unquenchable thirst.

He knows Lusa has been turned on he whole time, but only when he finally wraps his fingers around the heated, hard flesh does it become obvious. Lusa bucks up, effectively fucking Esper's fist. A needy sound is swallowed by Esper as it leaves Lusa's lips.

"Are you that desperate?" Esper asks when he finally pulls away, looking down at Lusa's flushed face.

"Esper, don't tease me," Lusa grounds out through a stream of shallow pants.

Esper blinks. He didn't mean to tease. He was just a bit surprised Lusa didn't even touch himself before. He tightens his hold, starting to stroke him in earnest as he mumbles, “You should’ve pleased yourself, too…”

Lusa chuckles briefly. “Nah, it was better to concentrate on you. Touching myself would’ve just distracted me from your pretty face.”

Esper hides his embarrassment with a remark. “Who’s narcissistic now?” His deeply flushed cheeks betray him, though.

“It was worth the wait if you ask me,” Lusa grins, bucking up sharply. He’s obviously desperate for the friction after so long.

As Esper pays attention to the swollen head of Lusa’s arousal and runs his fingertips over the weeping slit, he keeps staring into Lusa’s glassy, pink eyes. “Do you want to fuck me?” he asks.

Lusa laughs at his straighforwardness. Why is Esper always like this? “Hell yeah,” he groans, “You okay with that?” His eyes fall down to where Esper is hardening again.

“Yeah.” Esper’s eyes flick to his Dynamo momentarily and the little devices return a moment later with the bottle from the drawer. Lusa takes it and tugs Esper off of himself.

Esper sprawls himself on the covers completely unabashedly, watching with ragged breath as Lusa drips the translucent lube over his fingers. The cold touch afterwards is expected, but no less startling. He nods to Lusa,who he knows wouldn’t go any further without it.

He fights not to tense as Lusa’s finger goes in, rubbing his sensitive flesh. “Hn…” He wiggles, pushing back against the hand. He can’t stop himself from making noises; his whole body is hot again and he can’t focus on anything but Lusa.

He almost can’t believe how different this is from their first time - there are no harsh movements or painfully unknown touches. Lusa knows him through and through, and it if were anyone else, Esper might’ve wanted them dead for knowing so many of his weaknesses, but it is Lusa and he also knows Lusa through and through.

He nods to Lusa again, and another finger presses into him. The way Lusa starts to scissor them makes his head swim and hips move in their own.

“Lusa…” Esper breathes out quietly, the name sounding more a moan that anything. “Lusa, Lusa…” Like some kind of a mantra, he keeps repeating it, over and over.

Another finger slips in next time Lusa thrusts, and Esper’s breath hitches. Lusa halts, waiting patiently until Esper nods his okay again.

“You okay?” he asks anyway, even as he starts moving them.

“Yeah,” Esper pants. His eyes are trained to Lusa’s face. “Hurry up.” Lusa is concentrating on him again.

That’s no good.

A Dynamo - he’s not sure if it’s his or Lusa’s at this point - hands him the bottle and he squirts a generous amount onto his palm. He starts kissing around Lusa’s jaw, up and down his throat as he coats Lusa’s erection in a layer of the slick liquid. He keeps stroking even after he’s done with that, if only to listen to the alluring noises tumbling out of Lusa’s kiss-swollen lips.

They’re addictive, and Esper is sure he’d already gotten addicted long ago. He captures those lips and lets go of the heated flesh.

It’s slightly harder to position himself while keeping their lips locked, but he manages. A trail of saliva drips down their chins along with moans that they’re too far gone to stop from escaping.

He’s forced to part from Lusa when he finally sinks down, the slick head of Lusa’s arousal slipping into his heat. He tries not to tense, but his body shakes and lips open wide in a loud moan.

Lusa looks up at Esper’s flushed face, so beautifully contorted in pleasure. His eyes are half closed as he sinks further down on Lusa’s member. Lusa places his hands onto his lithe hips to make sure he doesn’t go too fast and hurt himself.

“Esper,” Lusa groans, entranced by the sight of his flustered cheeks and swollen, parted lips. Esper is so fucking gorgerous like this. “Fuck, I love you.”

Esper’s lips twitch up into a smile and he braces his hands on Lusa’s chest. “Me too,” he replies, voice cracking, “so much…” His arms tremble slightly as he pushes himself up, thighs braced on either side of Lusa’s hips. He moans brokenly as he lets his weight sink down again. His breaths turn even more ragged and uneven, whole body shaking as his mind drowns in pleasure.

“Lusa…” he moans, back to repeating the name like a prayer. “Lusa, move with me,” he absolutely does not beg (he begs, Lusa can tell), whimpering as he shifts his forward slightly.

Lusa wastes approximately no time in grabbing Esper’s hips tighter, fingers digging into the pale flesh and leaving behind angry red marks, and thrusting up in time with Esper.

They moan together, sweaty bodies sliding against each other pleasantly. Esper’s throwing his head from side to side, hands in fists shaking more on Lusa’s chest with each thrust.

It’s obvious that Esper can’t hold himself up any longer, so Lusa tugs him down, their chest smushed together and faces so close they’re practically breathing the same air. Esper whimpers as Lusa’s thrusts keep making his cock slide between their abdomens. Lusa’s stomach is stained by the precum he’s leaking.

“I can’t…” Esper whimpers again, eyes brimming with tears as Lusa holds him still by his twitching thighs and thrusts up with quick, shallow moves. “I can’t anymore…” He fists his hands in Lusa’s hair, tugging on the strands to keep himself grounded, even a little.

“It’s alright, Esper,” Lusa grunts out, craning his neck a little to be able to nip at Esper’s neck. “Fuck, I’m close too.”

Hearing Lusa’s breathless voice on top of it all makes Esper lose it. His body goes rigid, jaw falling open as a drawn-out moan escapes him, loud and broken. His fingers yank (probably) painfully at Lusa’s hair while he spills himself between them, sticky and wet.

He slacks, falling fully on Lusa’s chest, his own heaving with deep breaths as his eyesight clears of the white spots filling it. Lusa keeps moaning and groaning right by his ear - Esper isn’t sure whether he’s doing it on purpose or not - and his thrusts quicken even further.

“Lusa, Lusa, you feel so good,” Esper praises him, a tired, sincere smile playing on his face as he peers down at Lusa. He presses his lips against Lusa’s and swallows down the sounds pouring from the other’s throat hungrily, fingers holding Lusa’s head at just the perfect angle.

“Fuck!” Lusa exclaims, turning his head to the side as his movements stop altogether. “Esper…” he moans, between ragged breaths. Esper feels himself get filled and he seeks Lusa’s lips again, frantically trying to get himself closer to the other, even more than he already is.

Only when it feels like they’d pass out do they separate, two pairs of identical eyes gazing at each other with identical amounts of love. Lusa rolls them over gently, slipping out of Esper’s leaking hole. He holds the slighter man close, face to face, and drinks in the satisfied, _happy_ expression across his features.

“I love you,” Esper says softly, voice hoarse from all the moaning.

“I love you too,” Lusa replies without a second thought, pressing their foreheads together and tangling his legs with Esper’s. It’s almost uncanny how well they fit together.

“Mhmm. We’ll take a bath in the morning,” Esper suggests, eyelids falling closed on their own as he stiffles a yawn.

“Sounds perfect.”

 


	15. Fate rolled the dice and the outcome was us (1/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lusa fights him, tries to stand up, but it's obvious he couldn't even keep his balance, much less manage to walk. "Lusa, stop it," he begs, holding most of the other's weight.
> 
> _God, this was such a bad idea, such a bad fucking idea!_

_No way! That's a bad idea! No!_

Esper stands rigid, looking at Lusa with wide, unbelieving eyes. Why is the berserker asking this? Doesn't he know how badly it could end? Isn't he scared?

"Take me to the past with you."

Esper wants to yell no, wants to shake the other and yell how much of a terrible idea that is, but instead Lusa is the one holding his shaking hands. Lusa's face is adorned with a grin, a happy one with that irritatingly endearing tinge of curiosity in it. Esper swallows heavily, looking down at the ground.

He can't say no to Lusa.

It's still a terrible, horrible idea, don't get him wrong, but he can't deny that look.

"Are you sure…?" he asks softly instead.

Lusa's grin widens and he knows it's been decided.

* * *

There is no way to know if the calculations are right. Esper had long ago stopped trying to find the perfect coordinants for his past; there was no way, it was impossible to go there with his current equipment. Just finding something vague and using it as a starting point is his go-to now. It's not ideal, hell it's a fucking travesty of an idea, but it's not like he cares all too much.

Sometimes it gets him into absolutely ridiculous timelines; he remembers one where he had a twin, one where his family studied alchemy instead of Nasods… There were many weird things he'd seen in his travels.

There were many catastrophic things he'd seen.

This would count as one of them.

_Lusa! No!_

Demons swarming the village were a completely new thing. Everything in sight had been set ablaze, smoke rising in heavy waves up to the bloody red sky.

Glitters running amok, slaying anything that moves and devastating the buildings; this world is very, very doomed. Lusa's hand, holding onto his, tightens as they look over the spectacle.

It's Lusa's first time seeing a doomed past and Esper isn't sure what to say. He squeezes the hand back, biting his bottom lip.

"We have to do something!" Lusa exclaims, his other hand balling into a fist. Someone's screams echo in the back.

Esper gnaws on his lip harder, sure he's drawing blood by the metallic taste flooding his tongue. There's nothing they can do. Most, if not all at this point, of the villagers are already dead, or at least close to it. Looking over destruction that wasn't caused by him makes something in his chest ache, but there's not a thing that jumping in blindly would accomplish.

Lusa doesn't share this idea. He's already activating his plasma armor by the time Esper yells "Wait, don't-!" after him.

Esper stops breathing.

It's almost like everything moves in slow motion, just so he can fully experience all the details as Lusa starts punching his way through the Glitters. Static from the Dynamos hangs in the air and makes Esper's hair stand on end. He stands there frozen in place, body trembling harshly.

He can see it. He can see the moment where Lusa stops caring about his surroundings and fights blindly, revving the armor up for more powerful attacks.

He can see when one of the Glitters takes an opportunity to strike at one of his blind spots. Esper's body is frozen to the ground, but his wide eyes flood with tears.

A spear pierces through the plasma and through Lusa's side; crimson blood sprays around and Lusa yelps in pain. His knees buck and threaten to give out.

Esper's vision dyes in red and blurs further. His body moves on its own.

He cradles Lusa's body tightly as he rains down gravity spheres. Lusa must be in a lot of pain not to protest. He makes sure that there at no Glitters left to even attempt hurting the berserker again.

Crimson stains his clothes, seeps through them and leaves him feeling hot and sticky. It feels like he'll puke.

Lusa fights him, tries to stand up, but it's obvious he couldn't even keep his balance, much less manage to walk. "Lusa, stop it," he begs, holding most of the other's weight.

_God, this was such a bad idea, such a bad fucking idea!_

Why did he agree, he could've prevented this from happening, but no, he had to agree, and now Lusa got hurt and it was his fault, all his fault.

"We're going home," he announces, swallowing heavily. It doesn't help his parched throat at all, only makes his urge to puke stronger.

He motions the Dynamo to open a portal. Lusa groans as he pulls him along, face scrunched in pain. "Sorry," Esper mutters. "Sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry…"

The swirling mass of pink and purple envelopes them. Though it always seems like it would crumble beneath Esper's feet, he walks confidently forward, leaving only red droplets on the ground.

Countless portals adorn the 'walls' around them, humming their loud sounds, making them resonate in Esper's mind.

One of them is different, or at least feels different. It is almost like the crystal fused in his chest is drawn to it. It's the portal to Lusa's timeline. The feeling is warm and familiar - it's almost like what he feels when Lusa hugs him.

A small smile tugs on his lips, a desperate one. It tries to reassure them both. "It'll be okay," he whispers, but he can feel Lusa starting to slip away as more of the berserker's weight rests on him. "I'll fix you up, you'll be fine in no time at all," he promises, but then devolves back to the choked apologies. They tumble out of his lips just like tears spill from his eyes.

"Stop crying…" Lusa mutters. Esper looks down to see him looking up with a frown. It only serves to push more tears into his eyes, though he holds back a sob.

"I'm so sorry, this is all my fault. I'll fix it, Lusa, I promise."

He steps through the portal and emerges in the lab. His feet hit the floor of the lab with a heavy thud. The portal closes behind them and Lusa's knees actually give out. Esper winces at the strain.

"Oh, what's this? Eve again?"

Esper's eyes snap to the table, or to the chair in front of it, more accurately. For a split heartbeat, he thinks it's Mother and his heart skips a couple of beats. But then the words and the voice registers and he meets the man's pink eyes. His attention falls to the pale, scarred left cheek and then his wide eyes row over the neatly organized lab.

_This isn't Lusa's lab—_

  
"This isn't our lab…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made everything too confusing like the idiot I am, but this is a part of a two-shot connecting my two main Addcest series'. Though it is the last of this series and I will label it as finished, I might still add some one-shots to this timeline if I ever feel like it. So, yeah, be on a lookout for that I guess.


End file.
